


Across the Sea

by wisp_of_a_spook



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Feelings Realization, Loyalty, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:33:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28357044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisp_of_a_spook/pseuds/wisp_of_a_spook
Summary: Elizabeth accepts James' proposal of marriage, but she struggles to cope as a newlywed bride. James offers comfort by writing letters to her every week, whether she remains shut away in her bedroom or not.Until the day he sails out and his letters stop coming. Has Elizabeth become a widow already?
Relationships: James Norrington/Elizabeth Swann
Comments: 10
Kudos: 48





	Across the Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MBlair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MBlair/gifts).



> Moodboard and fic for MBlair's fandomtrees stocking on Dreamwidth.

Too long had passed since Elizabeth last had a letter from James.  
  
She'd given it time despite the continual spinning worry of her mind, spooling faster and faster with the continual silence. She knew the sea was not a forgiving mistress, riddled with storms, pirates, and all manner of dangers that might prevent his words from getting to her.  
  
But this…something was wrong. Elizabeth could feel it in her gut.  
  
Ever since she had agreed to James' proposal of marriage, he wrote a letter to her. Every week without fail. The firm, flourish of an N imprinted in the red wax seal. His neat, steady handwriting lined up on the page in black ink, like sailors awaiting his command.  
  
Heaven knows Elizabeth had never made life easy for James. But he didn't berate her for it. Instead, when she begrudgingly accepted his proposal, he wrote her a letter of gratitude and appreciation, signing off with his undying loyalty.  
  
_Ever your servant, James._  
  
Elizabeth wanted to hate him. She didn't care how prudent the match was. She didn't care that James Norrington was the definition of a good man in every sense of the word: patient, kind, genteel, with a steady income that would see her well-looked after.  
  
But no matter how hard Elizabeth searched for an excuse to despise James, she couldn't find a single valid reason. And for a long time, that had made her blood boil.  
  
The wedding came and went. James gingerly held Elizabeth's hands at the altar, swearing his commitment to her, "…until death do us part" as he slid his ring upon her finger.  
  
When they'd arrived at their charming townhouse, the butler had greeted them sharply.  
  
"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Norrington."  
  
Elizabeth had fled inside and locked herself in her bedroom, granting James no chance of carrying his bride over the threshold of their new home.  
  
That night, James slid a letter under her door.  
  
_I know all these changes must be incredibly overwhelming. If you desire a listening ear to pour out your troubles, I would be greatly obliged to lend my services, at any time of day or night. And if you prefer to maintain your solitude, please do let me know if there is anything I could fetch that might make you more at ease.  
Sincerely, James._  
  
For the first few weeks as newlyweds, Elizabeth had burned every letter. Watched his words ignite red then fade to gray, powdery ashes.  
  
James left her in peace. Each day, he ensured that Elizabeth was provided three hearty meals, with her favorite tea, and a small bouquet of flowers. Each day, he placed a stack of books by her meal tray, in case she might be interested in some reading to wile away the hours.  
  
But he never pounded on her door, demanding that she ended this foolish nonsense. He never cajoled or coaxed her into being a doting wife and hostess, ready to welcome guests who flocked to their townhouse with well wishes for the young couple.  
  
The only words James said to her were presented in his letters. She could read them – or throw them out – on her own time, by her own decision.  
  
The dawn began to blush along the walls of Elizabeth's bedroom now. She sighed, drew on her robe, and stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the harbor. Seagulls screeched overhead, punctuated by the hissing rush of the waves below. A handful of ships bobbed gently in the water, the dark spires of masts rising toward the sky.  
  
Elizabeth rubbed her arms against the chill of the morning.  
  
_What if his ship went down?  
  
What if he had taken ill?  
  
What if…?_  
  
Would she ever receive word of his death, out there in the deep blue expanse of ocean? The water could easily lay claim to his body, his ship, his crew. Gone. Snuffed out as smoothly as a candle in a breath of wind.  
  
Elizabeth clutched the collar of her robe a little tighter, for reassurance and comfort more than anything else. She didn't…love him. Not that. But she certainly didn't wish death upon him.  
  
James had stayed at the townhouse for only three months – a much more generous time period than most seamen received. Given that he was a commanding officer of high rank, he was granted an extended leave, to spend with his bride.  
  
A bride that remained locked in her room.  
  
Then the summons came and he was called away to the sea.  
  
At first, Elizabeth thought those three months would never end. She watched the clock and counted the minutes with agonizing precision. Soon, the townhouse would be all her own and she could pretend James didn't exist.  
  
One week passed, bleeding into another until a fortnight was finally gone.  
  
Elizabeth caught herself watching and waiting for the whisking sound of James' letter against the hardwood floor as he slipped it under her door. She would never admit it out loud, but she looked forward to the selection of books James left for her. Sometimes, she even dared to leave a note on her tray, requesting certain titles, which he readily provided for her.  
  
Soon, Elizabeth ventured out of her room for dinner. She hadn't announced her intention, so she found James at dinner alone, with a simple meal of bread, cheese, and ale. No wig, no coat. His shirt collar open. His sleeves rolled up to the elbows with a map spread out at his right hand.  
  
He looked…lonely, Elizabeth realized with a pang.  
  
She cleared her throat to get his attention.  
  
James raised his head and his eyes widened. He stood up so suddenly that his chair toppled backward.  
  
"Elizabeth, I didn't – I wasn't prepared – "  
  
He scrambled to sweep the map out of sight, to straighten his shirt and tuck it into his trousers in a vain attempt to make himself presentable.  
  
"Was your meal not to your liking?" James said. "I can have something else sent up if you like. Name it. Anything."  
  
Elizabeth gestured to the table.  
  
"I thought I would have dinner with you this evening," she said.  
  
James blinked.  
  
"Unless you're not in the mood for company," Elizabeth added.  
  
James shook himself out of his stupor. "No. Please. I…I would be honored if you accompanied me tonight."  
  
After that, Elizabeth spent less and less time in her room. She took nearly every meal with James, and even spent a few evenings in the sitting room with him, reading together or playing cards.  
  
Still, James wrote letters to her. Slipping them into her books. Tucking them beneath her teacup. Leaving them on her pillow when she slept through breakfast.  
  
Elizabeth didn't burn any of them anymore. She tied them up with a gold scrap of hair ribbon from her wedding, squirreling them away in a box beneath her bed.  
  
A delicate tap-tap-tap came at Elizabeth's bedroom door. When she turned, her gaze fell to the floor, to that gap under the door. An old habit. Waiting for one of James' dependable, timely letters.  
  
Instead, the door opened and her maid stepped in, a silver tray balanced on her open palm.  
  
"Morning, Mrs. Norrington," she said. "A letter just arrived for you. From the Royal Navy. I thought you would want it straight away."  
  
Elizabeth flew across the room, snatched it up. She tore past the seal, unfolded the single piece of parchment.  
  
Only a few words. But oh, how heavy they were.  
  
_Dear Lady Norrington,  
We regret to inform you that your husband, Commodore James Norrington, his ship, and his crew were captured by pirates. He is presumed dead and a service will be held in his honor of his sacrifice for the British Royal Navy._  
  
Elizabeth crumpled the letter in her shaking fist. The maid eyed her with confusion and wariness.  
  
"Will you be sending a response back, Lady Norrington?"  
  
Elizabeth lifted her chin. "Yes. Tell the Navy I will need one of their fastest ships as soon as possible."  
  
The maid sputtered in surprise. "Begging your pardon, my lady?"  
  
"I'm going to find my husband."


End file.
